Change and Chance: Days of the Dead
by Scarlet Thorrn
Summary: Prime. OC story. Robot Zombies. AU?: Sooooo, you remember that time Megsy chucked all that Dark Energon through the Space Bridgy thingy and made a bunch of Zombies? Well! Urnex's dead, Cirshoot's pissed, Matlock's scared, Tin's 'bout ready to rip Iceshré's helm off, and Keerlsky's right about to pop! And atop of that, who's this dude? Other survivors? Truly, it's a wonderful world.


_**Original Character stories! Yaaaaaaay! Apparently, nobody likes them. Well, I say screw that. I do. And you know what else I like? Zombies. ...No actually I hate them cuz I am totally fucked should "World War Z" actually take place... Well! At least I have the Zombie Survival Guide, eh? Anywho! This idea, like many, many others, has been circling my brain, and finally I've given in. I've started so many stories now... I gotta be honest, I dunno when I'll update this, but eventually I will. Cuz damn. Zombie robots = Win! **(Though, -by pointed out by **Fire RedHead** in an audible review- they're pretty much useless do to the fact that, well, can't you just make more soldiers, like, all the time? Sooooo what's the point of zombies?)_

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**Disclaimer: **I don't like these. I mean, it's fanfiction. Pretty sure everybody reading understands that the content their enjoying isn't actually owned by the authors of said stories, and that, yeah, I, as well as any other writer on this awesome site, am not making _anything_ out of our work, simply our own enjoyment. And I suppose you can't put a tax on that.

However! I'll play by the rules, I suppose.

I don't own. Really, it would be a disaster if I did. And...Transformers probably...really wouldn't be for children. A little too much gore running 'round my imagination... Yeah.

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**There you go! Oh and...loosely based after _The Walking Dead_? I dunno. This story's 'bout a group of trapped survivors still clinging onto Cybertron, facing the new threat: _a planet of the risen dead_, thirsting for their very lifeblood. **

_[I'm sorry! This idea's been stuck in my head since the first time I fricken watched TFP! Yet there seem to be **no zombie stories! **I mean, come on! They weren't blown up in the blast, (were they?) so where are the fricken Zombies running around Cybertron when Jack and Arcee go there at the start of season 2 with the whole Orian Pax thing?!] _

**WARNINGS: _Graphic gore, zombie murdering, gun violence, mpreg, vivid recounts of __bloody__ battles in the struggle over Cybertron, potent (Cybertronian) racism, rape, Course Language, Character Death, and allot of hopeless crap. _**

_**I wouldn't suggest reading this story in its entirety if you are currently struggling with depression.**_

**READ WITH DISCRETION **

**A side note: **This won't be totally dark. We'll have plenty tired, though still very relevant, smiles. As well as that, **_some of this will be in First Person, most of it in Third. _**

**~Please Enjoy**

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**Change and Chance**

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_Days of the Dead_

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**By: Scarlet Thorrn**

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**Chapter 1**

**Another Day**

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**Their customary snarls moaned from over the hill, the shuffle of uncoordinated pedes gathering in number with each passing second.** They would be upon them in minutes, tearing away weakened armour with their brittling denta, draining precious Energon with their mutilated intakes.

Tin shuddered under the dribbles of acid rain leaking from the ashy sky. He wanted to curl up, die, never run again! He couldn't_ do this_. No, _no!_ Not any longer! Urnex... Dried out, dull, blueish optics, once - a life time ago – so very bright and lively, flickered towards the twitching servo that squirmed in the mud. It was all that was left of their _Commander_.

A grimace spread over his Energon splattered lips, tight, stiff frame turning away from the severed limb. He'd hated the bastard, sure, but Urnex had kept them _alive _for Primus only remembered how long. He'd saved their afts even when..._they _had shown up. Three years, nothing compared to the time they'd waited under the stars for someone to return to their dead planet, but a lifetime running constantly from the walking corpses that tracked them everywhere, wherever they went, ever hunting them. Urnex had kept them alive, ...and now?

Tin looked on towards the horizon, catching the faintest glimpse of what used to be their latest camp. He could see Cirshoot yelling, could probably hear her, too, if he tried. As always, she scowled, calm and cold, murder in her optics as she pulled Keerlsky to his feet, large, swollen abdomen making it difficult for him to move.

They were all going to die, if they didn't get running this exact moment. But what did it matter? What was he supposed to tell Keerl?

Slowly, his darkened gaze drifted once last to the now still servo in the clumpy dirt, the shuffling growing louder and louder, the _reanimated_ creatures stumbling forward, closing in on their location, living Energon flooding their olfactory sensors.

Primal instinct jumped to life, outshining doubt of survival, forcing thoughts into his processor. Urnex...would have sacrificed them all, even Keerlsky, if it meant saving himself, ...but he would never had allowed them to give up, never permitted their sparks to surrender like a bunch of witless younglings to the quickly approaching threat. He would have shouted in their faces had they even mentioned yielding to the end of existence.

Clenching his fists, he grabbed the unattached f.48 plasma rifle from the abuse of the acid rain, turning on a heel to dash after a struggling Cir and Keerl, knowing Mat and Shré would be ahead, scouting the distant, dusty valley. They could out run the fuckers and get to the trees, giving them enough time to cool it and hide out for a while; figure out their next move.

Tin cursed under his breath, trying not to listen to the screeches riling behind him as the dead freaks finally spotted their fleeing pray. The meal in the form of their Commander they had attained earlier was out of processor. Nothing ever clenched these thing's hunger. Nothing.

_Biting_ his lip, Tin forcefully buried thoughts of Urnex, trying his ultimate best not to ask the simplest, most painfully terrifying question eating at his spark.

Without a guide, without a _Leader_, how in the _pit_ were they to possibly survive now?

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_**I slid my free hand over my enlarged middle, stumbling after Cirshoot, Tin's familiar form coming up behind me to grasp my arm and push me forward, his large chassis bumping against my long-neglected wings.** Customary uncomfortableness slipped into my processor, but I ignored it, biting my glossa and forcing myself on, spark whirling and wheezing as I fought not to look for Urnex._

_A whimper fled my throat when I failed to move as quickly as either Cir or Tin, practically tripping on every little thing. ...He'd be so angry with my inability to keep up. He may have decided the sparkling wasn't worth keeping. _

_Pressing myself to move ever forward, I shut out the moans growling behind us and made my pedes scurry faster._

_No, no, no... I couldn't make him upset. He'd be frustrated enough after today._

If we lived_, I thought the unthinkable, struggling to keep my despair to myself. _

_Urnex would be angry if I brought anyone down._

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**Cirshoot grunted at a sudden cry from Keerlsky, catching the jet-Seeker-whatever-the-hell-type-of-flier-he-said-he-was before the horribly and terribly far along carrying mech could stumble...again. **She frowned at the fear in his optics. They'd ran like idiot from these fuckers before, enough times that Keerl shouldn't have been as scared as he was. If they lived, great! If they didn't? Well not _one_ of them was _ever_ going down without taking out as many sons of bitches as they could, that was for hells sure! Enough had died, through the war, through the waiting, through _them _showing up that death was no longer a force to feel, but a fact to accept. The group knew that. Urnex shouted it every pit-stricken day into their audios!

Well. At least he _had_.

Cirshoot's maroon optics darkened. She wasn't stupid. She hadn't been the one deep in recharge when Urnex's scream had echoed flawlessly across the eerily silent land. Of course alerting every damn freak in the area, "Hey, fellas! Guess what? Energon's served!" _Afthead_, she mentally cursed._ Of course when Urnex finally has his prancy, military aft dragged to the pit he just has to claw us down too! Carrier-fucking son of a spike-suck whore! _

Refusing to voice her insults, leaving her anger at a promising growl telling tales of her clear readiness to brutally tear to pieces anything in her path, Cir focused on the valley, and, more importantly, trees ahead, her grip tightening around Keerlsky's thinned wrist. Herself and Tin needed no words. So many years surviving side-by-side had revealed, not only weaknesses; vulnerabilities, but strengths, thought patterns, and decision-making choices. Hell brought out the worst in people. And after a lifetime, they were raw. They knew _exactly_ what the other was thinking without an inkling of communication. And they each agreed perfectly.

Keerlsky was not necessarily left out of this equation, however in his current state, and the fact that he hadn't heard Urnex's royal bloody scream... The frantic tremble of his wings, the fear burning bright in his optics; not for a second was the mech going to think that the bastard sire of his sparkling was deactivated. But the absence of Team Leader, and Tin's welcomed and perfectly alright though strange silence, confirmed that.

Confident Keerl could keep up, Cir pushed herself to move faster, helm not turning to glare at the deadly mob stumbling behind them. _The mob that's robbed us of our next move_. She bit back a harsh sigh, pedes pounding against the ground as she ran. Matlock and Iceshré would probably be in the trees already, waiting anxiously for their arrival. What then?

Putting the thought aside, she focused on the task at hand. It was not as if she felt bad for Urnex; no matter _how much_ she wondered if she should. He'd been an aft. A great survivalist aft that she owned her life to, but an aft. An aft that'd done unspeakable things to the poor Seeker they'd found and taken along with them. _Captured_, she thought, but it didn't matter. What did Keerl care now anyway?

Optics locking on the trees galloping closer with each step, Cir's servo tightened on her blade, devilish gaze shifting through the approaching metallic tree line, spotting Shré's gun metal gray paint glinting in the pale light of the dying sun under the washing rain.

_Damn. Not far now._

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**I seriously questioned posting this, as I feel like I just through you into the story, and these first few chapters...well allot might be up for the reader to find and decide, I dunno. B****ut here it is. I apologize for any grammatical errors. **

**Yes, that was the first chapter. These chapters will be probably pretty short for this story, should it continue, (it will, like all my others, it's just I dunno when) but I'll try to make them interesting. :D**

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**It's time for: Robots Swear 'n Shit! **

**Afthead = **_Asshole_

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**I really really really hope you enjoyed! Yes, I'm aware I keep starting new stories, when the hell am I gonna find time to write them all?! But that's not too important. I'll figure something out, and these chapters will be short, allowing me to get out updates easier. **

**But if you want more, be sure to favourite, fallow, leave a comment, whatever! XD I'd love to hear what you think!**

**Please Leave A Review and Have A Wonderful, Non-Zombie-Filled Day! :D**

**~Scarlet! **


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